Page 95 of The Lessons

I didn’t know what to do. If she even whispered this to the department chair, I’d be pulled in for investigation, and my graduation would be put on hold. With Brad leaving and me not working, I’d lose the house. I wouldn’t be able to support Ainsley anymore. Not to mention the whole situation could involve throwing away the last eight years of work.

She had me by the balls on this one.

“What do I have to do?” I sighed.

“It’s easy, really. Painless. Come with me on a few double dates. Make her believe we’re together. A week, two maybe. Then we can ‘break up.’”

“And that’s it?”

“Yep.”

I sat there, pondering the options.

“So if you even—”

“Fine.”

She looked surprised. “Fine…meaning, fine you’ll do it?”

I clenched my jaw. “Yes.”

Chapter Twenty-eight

Ryan

Lisa wasted absolutely no time parading me around. First, it was a couple’s dinner downtown, and then that weekend it was brunch and a matinee. At least during the matinee I didn’t have to look at her or talk to her. The rest of the time was torture. I felt genuinely bad for Mrs. Baby Daddy; she just sat there as her husband went on and on about what was going on in their life. The worst was when he started talking about a trip they were planning to Hawaii that December. I mean, how could he do that, fully knowing he wasn’t planning on having her in the picture?

The whole thing made me sick.

The entire time, I consoled myself by thinking about Natalie. Her white cotton sundress, her ability to curse like a sailor, and her sweet, perfect pussy.

What? I’m a guy. Deal with it.

Thinking about the next time I’d see her was the only way I made it through those dates.

Chapter Twenty-nine

Natalie

I collapsed onto the mattress, my bones pure jelly after orgasm number three. Ryan had dubbed this my ‘review’ session, and I was, as usual, determined to be an excellent student. “Okay, that one is definitely my favorite.”

Ryan smiled at me. “You said that after the last one.”

“Right, but this time I mean it.” I flopped over onto my stomach and rested my head on his chest. “Which one is your favorite?”

“My favorite?” he asked as he stroked my hair.

“Yeah, I mean, you’re the sex-pert. Which position is your favorite?”

He laughed. It was really nice to see him relaxed. “I guess whichever helps the client the most. Whichever helps them get what they need.”

I looked up at him and rolled my eyes. Any lingering guilt I’d been feeling about lying to Ryan about my, uh, motivations, had been swiftly eradicated by the mind-numbing properties of his cock, and here he was, taking it back to the clinical again. “Oh, come on, Miss America. Don’t give me the canned answer. I’m serious. Which one do you like the most, I mean as aman?”

He exhaled. “I guess it depends.”

“On what?”

“My mood, the time of day, how I’m feeling about my body.”

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